This One Moment (8 page)

The next morning I woke up feeling like I'd played two soccer games back to back without a break. After fleeing Nolan's room, I'd slept a grand total of an hour, if that. And it had nothing to do with Nolan and his guitar. His playing had only continued for an hour after I left. The real culprit for my lack of sleep was Nolan's kiss. It had been everything I expected from him. Experience had taught him well.

Which meant the kiss was not so easily forgotten.

I was doomed.

I walked past his bedroom on the way to the bathroom. Nolan's door was open a crack.

“I swear I've got this,” he said, voice low. “Everything's gonna be all right. I promise.”

Giving him privacy, I left to get ready for work. Mom had texted at some point this morning to check up on me.

I'm fine,
I told her.
I just need things to get back to normal, then everything will be great.

Maybe Dad and I should cancel the Mexican cruise.
She was referring to the trip they were going on after Christmas. She'd been counting down the days before she could trade the cold for the heat. Who could blame her?

Don't you dare cancel!!!! Honestly, I'm fine.

If you're certain…

Absolutely!
But in case she wasn't totally convinced, I'd speak with Dad later and make sure she couldn't talk him into canceling their plans on my behalf. They deserved this break together.

Nolan, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, was in the tiny kitchen when I emerged freshly showered a short while later. The shower helped a little, but not as much as the smell of coffee waiting for me.

Nolan handed me a steaming mug and I almost kissed him, but for a different reason than last night.

I sipped it, and a satisfied smile slipped onto my face. “You remembered how I like it.” Nolan as my roommate came with definite perks. Although if I had any more sleepless nights like last night, I'd need a lot more than a simple mug of coffee.

His gaze scanned my body, and he frowned. “Why are you dressed like you're gonna play soccer?”

“Not soccer. Work.” I worked in a sports training facility, thanks to my kinesiology degree. It was mostly to gain experience so I could apply to get into a physical therapy education program. Because of that, I had several part-time jobs there, including working with special-needs kids.

Nolan's frown deepened. “You sure you don't want to take a few more days off?”

“I'm fine. Really.” I was still sore, but nothing that would cause me too much trouble at work. I just needed to get away for a bit from Nolan and my feelings for him. Returning to work was the best way to do this.

He gave me the patented cut-the-crap look he used to save for whenever I'd tried lying to him. “Great. Then I'm going with you.”

“I already told you I don't need a babysitter.”

“And I already told you I'm not signing up for the job. I'm going to work out. Remember? I need to keep in shape or else this all turns to flab.” He patted his rock hard abs. “And flabby rock stars are not all the craze right now.”

I snorted a laugh. “I don't think you have to worry about it while you're here. It's not like you'll be in Northbridge long enough to become flabby.” I tried not to think about those abs, which I'd seen last night. I did my best—but failed.

After a quick breakfast, Nolan drove me to the sports center, even though I'd insisted I was fine enough to drive myself. Neither of us mentioned the kiss. In fact, Nolan acted as though we hadn't kissed at all. He kissed girls all the time. Kissing me was no big deal. It was just one of those rock-star perks that came with his job. He got to kiss whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted, the girl's feelings for him be damned.

I was nothing more than one of those girls.

The sports center lobby area was busy with the early-morning crowd. Some individuals were hitting the gym before work. Others were in one of the intensive, sport-specific training programs offered here. The center catered to all levels of athletes, young and old.

And that's when it happened.

By “it,” I meant the effect Nolan had on the female persuasion. With the celebrity alert system wired into their brains going berserk, a half dozen girls suddenly looked in our direction. They eyed him like he was a juicy steak they craved after a week of chowing down on nothing but lettuce leaves. I braced myself for the fangirl screams. It was far too early in the morning for that.

Who was I kidding? The only good time for that level of fan enthusiasm was…never.

Fortunately, we were spared from going deaf. They just stared at him as if he was a delusion brought on from not enough caffeine in their systems.

Recovering first, two high-fashion-model wannabes sashayed toward us, their moves graceful yet predatory. Neither girl seemed aware she had competition also stalking her prey. Like a lioness going in for the kill, each was focused on one thing and one thing only. I wasn't even sure they noticed me walking alongside Nolan. Which was just as well. I didn't want to be considered part of the equation, an element they were eager to eradicate.

Both were tall and gorgeous, with shiny blond hair cascading down their backs. They could've just stepped off the pages of a fashion shoot. Next to these two, I was invisible. Cute, but invisible.

“Oh my God,” Blonde #1 said. The only difference between her and Blonde #2 was their eye color. Blonde #1 had pale blue eyes; Blonde #2's eyes were amber. “You're Tyler Erickson.”

“That's right.” Nolan smiled at the two girls. It wasn't the same smile that had graced his lips last night. This smile was the polite smile you gave your fans…when you weren't seducing them out of their panties.

Blonde #1 read a different message in the smile—a message that apparently said,
Please stroke my chest and abs.

Nolan stepped away, not a huge amount, but enough to break her contact with his body. I turned my head so she didn't catch me grinning.

“I love your music,” Blonde #2 gushed, but the way her eyes stripped him naked suggested it was more than his music that she loved. “And I love your tattoo.” Her gaze dropped to the tiger tattoo on his arm. At least she got the message and didn't try to touch him, although I didn't doubt she'd be all for touching him and exploring his body, given the chance.

Heck, who was I kidding? I'd be all for that too.

Heat rushed to my lower belly at the memory of his fingers brushing against my tank-top-covered nipple. Not inclined to miss out on the fun, my nipples tingled at the memory. It was all I could do to restrain the moan hovering at the back of my throat.

I was so busy mentally dousing the heat with cold water, I almost missed Blonde #1 scribble on a piece of paper and shove it in the pocket of Nolan's gym shorts.

“Call me,” she said as Blonde #2 did the same, although I could've sworn Blonde #2's fingers stayed in his pockets for a few seconds longer.

I wanted to rip the offending fingers out and tell her where to go, but the need to not make a scene overruled that desire by a narrow margin. A very narrow margin.

Besides, wasn't this part of Nolan's job? Socializing with his fans went a long way toward selling albums, especially if the band wanted to do even better next time. The fans were the ones to put them there. And Nolan deserved that…even if it meant I had to watch these girls practically drool on him.

Just as I was about to leave him to his fans, a pair of masculine hands covered my eyes. My heart rate spiked until I remembered whom the hands belonged to, and then it settled back to its normal pace.

“Hey, Chris.” I didn't have to look to know it was him. He did it every time he saw me.

He dropped his hands from my eyes, and I turned around to talk to the personal trainer, a former NFL player whose career had ended due to a knee injury. He was the guy Blonde #1 and Blonde #2 usually fawned over. Yes, rock stars and former football players were their men of choice.

“Didn't expect to see you back so soon.” His gaze traveled over my body, but not in the same way the two girls had checked Nolan out. Chris was checking me over for broken bones and other visible injuries.

“You know me,” I said. “I can never get enough of this place.”

His eyes darkened and a muscle twitched in his jaw. “Shit, if I hadn't canceled on you at the last moment, you would have been with me and not in Westgate. Do the cops know who did it?”

I shook my head. “And it doesn't help that I can't remember what happened. I don't even remember you canceling.” Heck, I didn't even remember we had planned to meet up.

“The moment you feel up to it, you're taking a self-defense class.” He fisted his hands on his hips, going all alpha on me and daring me to defy him. The same way Dad had been when he called this morning to make sure I was okay and told me the exact same thing about the class.

“You mean a refresher course. I took a self-defense class two years ago.” It had been after there was a rash of campus rapes. I had no idea if it had helped me or not during the attack. I had no idea if I even remembered anything I'd learned during the class.

A high-pitched giggle rose up from Nolan's little group. Chris glanced at the groupies and Nolan. “Wow, that guy looks a lot like Tyler Erickson.”

“That's because it is Tyler Erickson.”

“No way. Wonder why he's here.” Before I could reply, Chris walked to the group and introduced himself.

“I'm visiting a friend who lives in Northbridge.” Nolan could've been describing either me or Brandon. More than likely he didn't want to admit to knowing more than one person here. That would only lead to more questions about his connection to the town.

A growing unease jabbed at me like a pin you couldn't see in your clothing, but it was there all the same. I was a private person, for the most part. Being linked to Nolan would be like open season on me. The last thing I wanted was for Blondes #1 and #2 to think I was Nolan's personal assistant and that hooking him up with fans was in my job description. They had already tried that stunt when it came to Chris. No way was I going there again with Nolan.

The first time I had performed onstage was a few weeks after I fled Minnesota for L.A. It was shortly after I joined three other guys, all with the goal of making it big.

Our first gig had been in a dive, as was usually the case when you're new to the scene with no experience and no fans. It'd been a chance to prove ourselves to a rowdy crowd who didn't give two fucks about us and our aspirations. It had been both exhilarating and scary.

That experience was nothing compared to how I felt now.

I paced the hallway outside Hailey's room, waiting for her to get ready so we could go to Trysting.

Her bedroom door finally opened. At the sight of her, my dick pressed hard against my zipper. This was a side of Hailey I'd never seen before. I was used to athletic Hailey, the one who never dressed sexy. She didn't have to. She was sexy no matter what she wore.

At least, that was what I used to think.

But seeing her like this changed my mind. Her fitted black dress revealed more than it covered, but on Hailey it looked classy. The short hem showed off her long, toned legs, which looked never-ending. The black stilettos added to the effect. And though it was a side of Hailey I was unfamiliar with, it was a side I wouldn't have minded getting acquainted with.

For my sanity's sake (as well as my dick's), I tried not to imagine her legs wrapped around me while she was wearing only those shoes. I tried but failed.

The dress didn't help either. It was sleeveless and would have covered her breasts if it weren't for the cut-out in the front that pointed down, ending just below her cleavage.

Hailey turned around, and I sucked in a hard breath. The back of her dress cut away, so the skin from her shoulder blades to her lower back begged me to caress it. Her shiny brown hair flowed down her back, brushing her bare skin.

Shit, I was in serious trouble.

But who was I kidding? I'd been in serious trouble the moment my lips touched hers the night before last. I hadn't meant to kiss her. That didn't mean I hadn't wanted to. But Hailey wasn't interested in me, not that way.

Or so I'd once thought. But after the other night, I wasn't sure anymore what was true and what wasn't. She'd kissed me back. That much was true. Then she had pulled away and couldn't get out of my room fast enough. She could have thrust a hot knife into my heart and it would've hurt far less.

Before that night, I had craved to touch her, to taste her. And after I did? The craving grew stronger, until it got to the point where it was all I could think about. On the plus side, I'd poured my emotions into a new song, and I had to admit it was damn good. Even Jared had agreed with me after I played it to him via Skype this afternoon.

“How do I look?” Hailey bit her lip and looked down at the dress.

Amazing. Hot.
“Good.”

“Kayla loaned it to me.”

I was officially going to kill Kayla.

“Are you…?” I wasn't sure how to finish the sentence and how she would react if I did. But the thought of her bringing home some random guy was too much to even think about. All I knew was if some guy hit on her, I was likely to punch him.

Which would make me no better than my old man.

“Am I what?” Hailey asked.

“Are you planning on hooking up with someone tonight?” My gaze dropped to her lips, and the craving to taste her again was a kick in the gut.

She shook her head, eyes locked on mine. The bruises on her face from the attack were faint, mostly hidden by her makeup. “Are you?”

I barely heard her. I was too focused on the image in my head of making love to her. And once again my dick got excited at that possibility.

Brilliant going, dickhead
. As if I wasn't already in enough trouble with Hailey dressed like this.

“No. The only person I'm going home with tonight is you.” My voice came out husky, and I silently cursed—again—my body's reaction to her. Hailey had already made it clear she was only interested in one-night stands. The last thing I wanted was to be another of her one-night losers.

She blinked and quickly looked away. “Are you ready?”

“Yep. Brandon texted that he's on his way. He should be here soon.” Kayla and her boyfriend were meeting us at the club.

I waited while Hailey grabbed her coat and purse, then we headed down in the elevator to the main floor. The easygoing feeling that used to be between us had shifted. Now an odd tension blanketed us. Hailey stood several feet from me in the empty elevator, but that did nothing when it came to her sweet vanilla scent. Even in the stale air, her scent made it impossible to pretend she wasn't there.

Brandon's truck was waiting for us outside the building when we stepped out of the lobby. I opened the passenger door and waved for Hailey to get in. But given what she was wearing, it was nearly impossible for her to climb in without flashing her ass. And while I might have appreciated seeing her sweet ass and panties any other time, I didn't want anyone else to witness the view. Plus, seeing her this way would only make things more difficult for me. I was already in a shitload of trouble as far as Hailey was concerned, and I didn't need to make things worse.

I gripped her waist with both hands and hoisted her onto the seat. A faint blush swept across her cheeks, and I did my best not to chuckle at her response. Instead, I focused on the way Brandon was checking her out, and I frowned. Hailey's skirt had hiked up her thighs when she scooted over, leaving only a thin strip of skin covered.

Before I could say something we would all regret, Brandon turned his head to look out the driver's window.
Smart move, douchebag
. I wasn't sure if Brandon knew how I felt about her, but he'd never shown any interest in her before. But who was I kidding? Who wouldn't be interested in Hailey? She was too sweet and too hot for her own good.

Hailey readjusted her skirt, wiggling it down her thighs as I climbed in next to her. My leg pressed against hers, and I silently lamented wearing jeans, which prevented me from feeling her soft skin.

“Remember, if you see the guy,” I said, “let me know. All right?” Brandon knew the real reason we were going to the club tonight, as did Kayla. While I trusted Brandon to be cool, I wasn't too thrilled that Kayla knew why we were there. She was just as protective of Hailey as I was. I was worried about what she would do if she saw the asshat. But I didn't have a choice. As soon as Hailey had told her what we were up to, Kayla insisted—correction, Kayla
demanded
—we take her with us.

“I will,” Hailey said.

“And don't for any reason go off on your own. If you want to go somewhere, Brandon or I will go with you.”

Hailey smirked. “And which of you fine gentlemen plans to accompany me to the bathroom?”

“That honor goes to Nolan, thanks.” Brandon's smirk matched Hailey's.

“Don't girls usually travel to the bathroom in packs?” Either way, I'd be waiting outside until she came out.

The nightclub was busy when we arrived, with people milling around outside. The bouncer checked my ID, which said Nolan Kincaid instead of Tyler Erickson, and didn't give me a second glance. Either he didn't recognize me or he just didn't care.

Because I didn't want to draw an unnecessary crowd, I was wearing my baseball cap. I tugged it low enough so I wasn't as easy to recognize, unless you were really looking, but not low enough to prevent me from keeping an eye on everyone.

Half pretending to search for Kayla and her boyfriend, Hailey walked around the nightclub, scanning the crowd for the guy. All she could tell me was that he was maybe five foot eleven, medium build, with short brown hair. Which described quite a few guys here.

She surveyed the crowd, the light a mix of bright spotlights flashing in time to the beat and dark shadows. The contrast highlighted some faces while others remained easily hidden. I kept my eyes open for anyone fitting the description and whose gaze was fixated on her. I couldn't fault guys for checking her out, but there was a big difference between checking her out and studying her every move.

We found Kayla and her boyfriend on the other side of the bar.

“Is he here yet?” she asked Hailey.

Hailey shook her head.

“Do you remember anything from the last time you were here?” I held on to a sliver of hope that being here would trigger a memory for Hailey.

Again she shook her head, and the sliver crumbled away in the perfume-filled air.

“Tyler.” Kayla overemphasized my name, as if to remind herself to use my stage name around anyone who didn't know who I really was—and that included her boyfriend. I'd been adamant about it. I didn't know him, which meant I didn't trust him. “This is my boyfriend, Dylan.”

The guy held out his hand. “Good to meet you, man. I thought Kayla was shitting me when she said she knew you.”

We chatted for a few minutes while I answered a multitude of questions about the band and what it was like touring. Kayla had never mentioned how big a fan he was. She'd only mentioned he liked my music.

“C'mon,” I said to Hailey after Dylan paused his questioning long enough to take a sip of beer. “Let's get a drink and check out the rest of the place.” I excused us.

Not far from us, a girl headed up the staircase tucked in the corner. A guy followed her, his hand on her lower back. Hailey started walking toward the bar. I grabbed her arm and gestured with my chin toward the stairs. “Where do those go?”

“The club's private party rooms.”

My insides clenched at what she meant and at the possibility she'd used the rooms herself. That wasn't to say I hadn't been in a few, which was why I knew what could happen there. “Can you see the dance club from up there?”

She shrugged. “I don't know. I've never been up there.” My insides partly unclenched.

I turned back to Kayla and Dylan. “Do you guys know if you can see the dance club from the private rooms upstairs?”

They both shrugged.

“Okay,” I said to Hailey, “let's go.” I nodded toward the bar.

We squeezed past the growing crowd. I kept my head down to avoid having anyone recognize me, which would make searching the nightclub impossible. Once we were at the bar, I asked her again if she'd seen him. She shook her head, disappointment sitting heavily on her shoulders. She wanted to find him tonight as much as I did, maybe even more.

I ordered our drinks. When the bartender returned with them, I asked him about the private rooms.

“The music from the club is piped into the rooms, but there are no windows in any of them. Other than the doors, they're cut off from the club.” He quickly added, “But there's a bouncer at the top of the stairs to make sure nothing bad goes down.” I wondered if he figured I was an undercover cop making sure no one could be sexually assaulted there. I nodded my thanks and turned back to Hailey.

“At least we now know if he's here, he can't watch you from upstairs. If he shows up, we'll see him.”

We returned to our friends. Keeping an eye on the area, I joined the conversation until the girls decided to dance. Since I didn't intend to let Hailey out of my sight, never mind letting her dance with another guy, I grabbed her hand and led her to the floor.

Figuring I'd be safe from people approaching me while I danced—the Tyler me, that is—I removed my hat. Hailey ran her fingers through my hair. Her fingertips stroked against my scalp. The skin tingled at her touch, and for several seconds I could only stare into her warm brown eyes, mesmerized by the gold flecks in them.

Her fingers remained in my hair and her lips parted. Around us, people moved to the fast beat, but we just stood there, uncertain what to do next. I felt myself lean down, my lips drawn to hers, craving her, the way it had been since our first kiss.

I paused inches from her lips. I barely heard the fast rock music pounding through the space. I barely noticed the people around us. All I could see was Hailey.

Someone knocked into her from behind and she stumbled into me. I wrapped my arms around her to steady her, our bodies touching. The music faded away, to be replaced by a slow song. I was about to ask her if she still wanted to dance when she whispered, “He's here.”

I murmured in her ear, “Where?” I didn't want to alert him that I was looking for him, but I needed to know his location so I could tell Brandon.

“He's at your seven o'clock.”

“Okay.” I sent Brandon a text. “What's he wearing?”

Hailey's gaze darted briefly over my shoulder. “Light blue shirt. Jeans.”

I fought the urge to turn around, and sent Brandon another text. The plan was for him to take a picture of the guy without him knowing, which was the hardest part given the lack of lighting. Brandon was then to contact the detective involved in Hailey's case. I had already told the cop what we were up to. He'd told me to get in touch with him as soon as Hailey spotted the guy, but under no circumstances were we to talk to him. To do so might've jeopardized the case.

I might not have been allowed to tell the asshole to fuck off when it came to Hailey, but no way would I let him believe he could watch her the way he had been.

I murmured in Hailey's ear, “I want him to think you're with me.” I ran my stubbled jaw against her cheek. She sucked in a soft, shaky breath, and my body trembled slightly at her reaction. “I'm going to kiss you,” I said, voice husky.

“Okay,” she breathed, the puff of air warm against my cheek.

I closed my eyes for a millisecond to gain strength for what I was about to do. When it came to Hailey, a single kiss wasn't enough. But that was all I'd get. I traced my lips against her jaw, memorizing the soft feel of her skin, until I found her mouth.

The first kiss was tender. Hailey wrapped her arms around my neck and I enveloped her in my arms. We continued to kiss this way for the first part of the song, swaying to the music. But my craving for her became too much, and I needed more.